Page 13 of Hanging Horseshoes

Turning down the road and making my way down, I look at the gas tank light thingy. Is it called an odometer or something? Whatever it is, I want to make sure I have enough gas to get out of town at least, but being the responsible guy Trip is, it looks like the tank is nearly full.

I look at the road quickly before pressing on the gas harder than looking down at the speed thingy… another meter word. I press harder on the gas, knowing twenty will not put enough distance between us at this rate. I push until I hit forty, not daring to go faster than that. After a few minutes of just going straight down an empty back road, I start to feel comfortable. I’m finally getting the hang of it. Maybe I can get away with it. As long as I watch my speed and ditch the truck before Trip reports it stolen, I’ll get away. I’ll be in the clear. I can finally keep my loved ones safe… but the smile doesn't last long, and neither does my luck.

I hear a loud bang from behind me, and before I can look and figure out what it is, I’m swerving off-road and praying like hell I can control this thing before I crash.

Chapter Eleven

Trip

I groan as I hear a sound coming from the front of the house. I live in the middle of nowhere to try to get peace and quiet. Maybe it's just the wind. This is an older house; it's probably just the wind. I lay my head back down and don't realize until a bit later I actually dozed off. I wake with a start, though, when I hear someone coming down the dirt driveway. Who the hell could be coming to the house at… I look at my phone charging on the side table to see the time.

“Fuck, it's nearly two am. Who could be here?” I groan, sitting up on the side of the bed. I listen again and realize the sound isn't getting closer; it's getting further away. What the hell? Quickly grabbing my jeans from the floor and pulling them up, not bothering with a shirt or hell, even buttoning up my pants, I race down the stairs and out the front door, just to watch the taillights of my truck disappear toward the road.

“What in the absolute fuck?” I yell out from my front porch like they are going to stop or anyone else around here is going to answer me back. What do I expect, the fucking horses to start talking?

I’ve got options. I can hop on a horse and try to chase them down, assuming I know which way they went once they reach the road. Plus, let's not forget it's a fucking truck. Even my best bud won’t be able to catch up to the horsepower in that truck, especially with the head start.

My other option is to call the cops. That's actually really the only option I’ve got. Report it stolen and hope it's in one piece when I get it back.

“Fuck!” I yell once more before pulling the hair at the back of my neck and turning back into the house. I’m passing the front table that usually holds my keys when I see a piece of paper. Picking it up, I read the quick, neat handwriting.

Trip,

I’m so sorry to do this to you. You have been nothing but kind to me and my daughter. I truly want to thank you for everything. I promise I will try to take really good care of your truck. I only need it to get away and protect those I love. Please give me as much time as you possibly can before reporting the vehicle stolen. I will keep it safe.

-Ophelia

“Ah, hell!” I yell before turning and racing down the front porch to the barn. As quickly as I can, I saddle up Brass, my biggest and strongest horse, and take off toward the lake. I have a feeling this is the way Ophelia came. She seemed interested when I told her the lake backed up to my property with a trail leading to it. I have a feeling she wouldn't walk alongside the road this late at night, so that only leaves one option. Still only dressed in my half buttoned pants and nothing else, the cool night air hits my skin but does nothing to lessen the fear of what might happen.

I need to get to Rodeo and his club. I need to tell them what happened, and we need to come up with a plan to get Ophelia back and make sure she and her baby are safe. I kick my heels in again, urging Brass to go faster even when I know he’s pushing his limits.

We make it another couple minutes before we come up to the gate that blocks my property from the clubs. I checked it out when I first scoped out the land. The lock is rusted back here and easy to take off it's so old. I had planned on fixing it before I realized who owned the land backing up to mine. I was going to get it fixed one of these days but figured if it was so old that no one ever used it and I could wait a while. I have about a million other tasks to complete around here to get this place up and running. So far, all I’ve got is the house and about five acres cleaned up. Can't get much done by myself. Eventually, I'm going to have to hire more hands.

Quickly hopping off Brass, I get the lock off, and the gate pushed open before mounting again and racing around the lake. From what I can see, the houses on the trail are absolutely magical, with the moonlight shining off the water, but I’ve seen glimpses from the other side of the lake. My plan is to keep following this road until it leads me to the compound, but I see lights turn on in the houses as I race by. The last house I come upon, I notice the club President; I think his name was Swift, quickly run out of the house. He catches sight of me as I pull Brass to a stop.

“What the fuck? How did you get on the property?” he yells.

“I’ll explain everything, but first, I need to get to Rodeo. Is he at the clubhouse?” I ask, near panic. I don't know why I’m so worried or this push that tells me I have to get to Ophelia. I need to protect her. Make sure she’s safe.

“Fuck! Yeah, he stays there. I’ll follow behind you.” He tells me, hopping on his bike and giving me a thumbs up. I take off and hear his engine behind me. He keeps his distance, which I appreciate. Brass is a damn good horse, but with my emotions running high, I’m not sure what he might do tonight. He's always been able to tell my moods; half the time, he gets the same surly attitude. Tonight isn't the night for me to deal with that shit.

Making it to the back door of the metal structure, I hop off Brass and pat his neck in a job well done before stepping closer to Swift, who rushed to the back door. I hear other bikes heading this way, but pay them no attention. I have one goal, and that's to figure out where Ophelia went and how to get her back. Also, figure out what or who she is running from and take care of that shit as well. No one is going to harm her or Mable if I have any say in the matter.

We rush through the door and down the hall. I hear someone grunt and then a scream, which has us moving faster, but when we come to the common area, I quickly understand this is not a situation I need to be in.

“Really, Loki? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Don’t you have a fucking house for that shit? Put your fucking dick away and come on. Rodeo just called. We got an emergency.” Swift growls out before turning and walking to another hallway. I follow along behind him, hoping he leads me to Rodeo.

We hear crying from the room as we make our way down the halls more hurriedly. When we get to the open door, what I see has me stopping in my tracks. Beau sits on the bed with a crying Mable in his arms, holding her close to his bare chest. He has nothing but his boxers on, and the look of panic on his face has both me and Swift hurrying into the room.

“Came as soon as you called, brother. Others are on their way. What's going on?” Swift asks.

‘she’s gone.” He tells us softly, my guess meaning Ophelia. ‘she just left. She left a note, but she left Mable with me. Why would she do that?” He asks softly and I can tell he isn't asking us for an answer. I do anyway.

“To keep her safe. She’s running from someone.” I tell him, holding up my note. ‘she stole my truck and took off.”

Swift swears under his breath before speaking up. “I’m going to gather everyone in for church. We’ll have Comp try to track her. Trip, stay here in case we have questions. Mind if I take those two notes from you guys? Might have some kind of clue what we are dealing with here.”

We both hand him the notes before he turns and leaves.

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